Tag: mind

Watching, walking,
Walking away from pain,
Looking at what is horrible in people,
Seeing, despite how hard I try.
Sometimes people are just horrible.

A hard fact to swallow,
As I hope for,
What I cannot see.
A pained song,
I listen to and watch.
See their pain,
I tried,
When noone else did.
To help,
To try to see, help,
But now I walk away.
Uncaring.

It’s one of those things,
When the hurt, hurt.
A lack of care,
Kindness,
In all those times.

Something I never wanted to do,
To walk from another’s pain.
A lesson to learn, and learn again.
People being horrible,
Some have a call, a call for help.
But no matter the try.
Some have taken this hurt,
As their mantle, as their creed,
As their infliction.

For some,
The need to walk away,
To turn a blind eye to suffering,
Trying, had tried,
Wasted my time trying to help.
Believing in goodness, kindness,
Only to see it absent.
Something I didn’t want to believe.

I,
Trying in place,
Having to own,
The failure to help,
A failure through the trying.

Riping.
Your self from self,
To fill,
Yourself, witj anger and pain.
To watch it all burn.

Knowing,
You’ve tried.
All you could.
As you turn away,
Watching it burn from behind.

Walking away from pain,
Letting them wallow,
Knowing you tried,
But were pushed away,
While asked not to go.

Pain is yours,
And yours to keep.
No more will I try,
No more will I vicariously pain,
Trying to help.

The hardest choice to make.
To leave another,
To the fires, flames and pain.

Walking away from pain,
Letting them, get consumed by flames.
As I walk, turn, Knowing I tried.
A choice I’ve fought at every turn,
But now must give in.

Thinking, angry, been an alright day, mixed, but thinking of humanity, how it’s so horrid, hurtful. Thinking of a recent hurtful person. Also of how everyone thinks, how is everyone often so content with leaving another? Letting them to pain. General gossip I hear, reminds me of this all the time. But I kind of get it now. Myself having to realise that some people are just horrid with no way around it.

A hard thought to process as, there’s no benefit to being hurtful, being a dickhead. But. I shouldn’t feel bad for leaving those kinds of people, to wallow in pain, the depths of their hell.

Just thinking of all those nights, staying up, even before work early just to make sure my friend was okay, chatting, letting them vent, trying to help, trying to be kind. And then yeah, kindness offered in life is rarely returned.

So I shouldn’t feel bad, angry maybe, but not sad for leaving them to pain. Not hurt, for wanting to help, not gonna hurt just to help. People don’t care and don’t deserve the same. Some people just need to be left to rip their own world apart. I give up trying to help.

To be,
In the, in this moment.
To be okay and calm.
Even as looking back into the storm.

To find a place in being,
Uncertainty, still present.
But okay as I go on.

The last few days at work have been okay, hectic but calmer. Been doing photography everyday after work. Has been good. Went to a social for a group I found on Facebook, for photography. It was good, very nervous at first, and the youngest person there after me was 15 years older, felt a little out of place, but also not. It was good.

Feeling calmer. The emptiness I talked about before, still there, normal, but when better, it’s easier to ignore. To live in the moment. Looking forward to my best friend’s birthday.

Trying all I can,
All I have in the past,
To find feeling,
But left empty,
Do not know why,
Despite what I try.

Fighting the world’s emptiness,
Raging to try,
Raging to find life.

Trying all I have before,
To find.
To try.

To try and feel,
To try and be.
Left to spiral.

Living by the distraction,
One moment at a time.

But oh well,
Living in the pain of unfeeling.

As I rage and try to make it through.
Living with the peaceful crashing of the waves.
Trying.
Trying all I can.

Feeling so lost,
And unsure, why this is.

One thought brings slight comfort, feeling,
And even this,
Cannot disrupt the emptiness right now.
But I try, I try,
To feel.
To try and see.

The songs that play, of life.
A life, captured in music.
I try.

Even this,
May not be enough,
To cease my mind’s spiral.

But I try.
I have to try.
It’s all I got.

This sad song.
Trying to find,
Trying to see.
To know,
To be.

But I’m left lost.

It’s been a better day, but I still feel empty, lost. Maybe it’s because I still need a recovery period. But I really don’t know.

I really feel I’ve lost something recently, don’t even know what.

Even what I’ve always known could help isn’t working. Did some photography which was nice, but still, empty. Lost. Hurt. Not even knowing. That’s the worst bit. Not knowing. Feeling lost. Feeling a bit was lost.

Before I could write poetry and blow off steam and get back to a recovery, but this time is different and don’t even know how or why.

Memories from the present,
Reminders of a past,
So alien,
So full of demons,
Me.

As the times flow past.
Bringing perspective,
Sadness,
Being.

Times stuck.
For others,
As I find myself,
Chained.

Anger, sadness, pain, memories.
Wanting to push away.
So I,
Can slip away unknowingly.
Just to be.
To make what I want.

Having knowingly erased,
Most of my past,
My childhood.
Always remember,
But suppress,
Hide from view,
For myself and others.
The time erased.
The time I have burned from view.

Living in the moment,
With the reminders,
The scars, fresh and old.

Fragile flesh,
Tree rings,
Marking the times,
For the living.
All that’s come and to bring.

All the scars from wars fought,
Wars of the world and mind,
Scars from the battlefield called life.

Spent just under 12 hours asleep. Was kinda peaceful, spent a lot of time not thinking, unconscious. Nightmares concerning work, but only a bit, luckily once asleep, even nightmares seem disjointed and not connected to reality and hence they’re easier to cope with. It’s just the nightmare, and not a long list of memories.

When I finally left the house, just for a cig after a stressful week, a song came on, one I haven’t heard in a while. Reminded me of some times in secondary school, half my lifetime in the past, reminding me, being cheeked, always the unceasing memories. But they weren’t too bad. So far in the past. But always clear, I could take a boat home and go straight to that room even now, half a lifetime in my past.

Feeling calmer, empty but calmer. I probably needed this despite wishing I had done some photography but had no motivation today. Hopefully after a week of 6ams I can do some everyday, hoping the week can get better, even one good day seems like quite the ask so far.

But we’ll see.

Thinking of how far I’ve come, much further than I thought. Much further. Also reminds me of depression in secondary school and my promise to myself that I wouldn’t make it to my 23rd birthday. I can’t believe I’ve made it to 20, not by choice but yeah. We’ll see. Oh well.

Reminds me of my promise to my best friend, that they don’t have to worry about me, I’m existing, not by choice, but unfortunately just stuck, so everyone doesn’t have to worry, apart from me, stuck in existence, but not by choice. But yeah.

Seeing the signs,
My mind worsening.
A tumor growing,
A tumor of being.

Not knowing what to do.
I tried, I try.
So hard.

The brain, warping, rupturing.
Breaking down anything before it.

Wanting to cry it out.
But feeling so empty.
Empty as I look before,
Seeing my failures splayed.

Trying to find the strength,
To get through,
To make well,
To go out,
To free myself with passion, enthusiasm.

But I tire,
As the overthinking crushes every feeling,
Every inclination.
Feeling failure.

As I think, trying to will myself to betterment.
I tire.
Trying all.

Wanting to do my best,
To help,
To be kind.

As you pass and see the world’s beauty.
Don’t even feel like looking.
Given up on seeing.

A sad set of affairs,
Watching myself fall and fall.
Just watching, seeing the breaking apart. Helpless.

Only trying,
And everything people’s said,
Plays over and over.
A write-off for the day, as my trying ends in failure.

A stressful shift. Can’t help but think I did everything wrong. Always. What’s worst. Is me. Asbergers if I have it, is always thinking, playing all the worst moments over and over in my head, unceasingly. Making me feel sick and tired. Not sleepy but tired.

Was looking forward to doing some photography today after shift. But don’t feel like it. Just feel like sleeping the day away, so I cannot do anything else wrong. I did all I could, all I thought right. But at least, when unconscious I won’t think.

It started well, really well, but ended stressful and shit.

Again, what’s worst, it’s not like anyone said I did a shit job, maybe it was thought by them, maybe it wasn’t. But I can’t help but think and think. Till I feel like retching. Not even sure. But I tried. I always try.

Today is a write-off.

Hoping to heal, but yet another blow.

Can’t even think. I tried.

After recent stuff, really didn’t think this day could end so bad.
Hooing I could be on the mend.
But instead I feel myself slipping down in more ways than one.
Giving me worries for any future.

How is everything going so bad? Is it even? Or a fault in my brain?

Probably didn’t help that I didn’t take a break, but I didn’t have time, and would have preferred to not take one and try make better.

I don’t even feel like eating. I just want to sleep.

Didn’t think this year could go so bad. I have less stress paying for a Masters, more time to relax and do what I want, less stress with exams and more time. More time just to try my best just with work, to do good work, to help. To do good work.

I really wanted to move away from home and now, I am losing myself, every reason I had, just unfeeling. I don’t have a desire to move back, but losing everything I wanted. So left with nothing. As I try.

But I try.
I tried.
Buckling under the weight.
Buckling as the world forces its true weight.

Feeling a ghost,
Wherever I walk.
Without knowing why.

Everything,
The good of the world,
Feeling like an empty memory,
Even in its presence.

Anger and emptiness,
Fueling my spectral walk.

Through the dark streets, dark fields.
Taking in the moonlit night.
The lights of the city,
Calming,
But still… empty.

The thunder, hail, rain,
Give me peace within its lack.

Empty, emptied out, into the night.
Tired.
Given up.

Lost in the world.
A world so empty and cold.
Lies told.
Creation of a world not my own.
Enough to fool myself,
For but a moment.

Some small peace from being.
And after, the moment is gone.

Staring out into the rain.
Let the rains fall,
Battering against my skin,
So unfeeling.
One where sadness cannot touch me,
Devoid of all feeling.
An uncomfortable state of being.
Giving in.
Letting be.

Giving up the fight so hard.

As the world cries the rain.

Everything fading, before my eyes.
Shivering so cold.

A world.
One where I cannot fight.
Survive.

Dying inside, every second.
Is this life?
Trying to distract the mind?
From the truth.

As I see it all crumbling before my eyes,
Helpless.
I tried.
Failed.

Now to watch the world.
Do what it does.

Laying helpless.

Finally giving up.
This fight after so long.

The picture I took today on a photography trip. An image I like, my phone doesn’t give the beauty justice. Saving up for a camera and intend to try and take it better. Standing on high, it was peaceful, but for a moment.

Just tired, empty. Don’t even know why. I’m not empty when distracted, but even then, is that living? Having to constantly distract yourself? Kind of like going the rest of your life without sleep. Eventually, you will fail. You will fall. You will lose the fight.

At least photography gives me a brief respite. But I truly just can’t.

The many times,
Lying awake,
Thinking, hurting.
I remember them all.
Scars etched into my mind.

Breaking me down.
Piece by piece,
They all shatter.
They all shatter.
I shatter.

But I must stop somewhere.

So I exist.

Feeling tortured, always in the mind.

Living in my mind, the thing that comes closest to describing it is the punishment of Prometheus, chained to a rock, to have a giant bird peck and eat his liver, only for it to recover overnight and to happen all over again the next day.

Everything, the mind, thinking, can’t be bothered to do anything, just existing is too much effort.

It’s the mind more than anything, swirling thoughts, no peace, just reliving, unable to ignore or get away from. Just remembering. Hurting. Wanting it to stop. Wanting my mind to stop.

My mind, a prison.
Always,
Not understanding.
Painful.
Horrible.

Autism sucks.
It’s a prison you can never escape from.
Trying, in vain as life passes.

Trying, a world throwing all it has.
It gets too hard.

My life, can be summed up.
By; always trying, always failing.

Everything, misunderstanding, pain, hurt.

With my studies I had a goal, always trying so hard, but always failing. Haven’t had a grade I’ve been pleased with in my whole schooling life.
Moving country even, it was a trial, is a trial, taking a more difficult road. But I tried. I tried.

Not even knowing anymore really.

Everything people say,
Hurting,
Everything I do,
Hurting.
But I tried. All I could do.
And the world reminds, it means nothing.

Looking back on life, memories of all, and it just hurts.

Every moment, memory, shining like a dark star.
Many, leading up to Uni and difficult times to even attend, times during, many, and many times in childhood. And a memory flashes before me. Sitting under my diningroom table, as a kid, must’ve been like 6, hurting, and biting so hard down on my hand till drawing blood. Just to feel. Funny, this, this dying life.

Just want to write, write and write. All the incoherent thoughts. A few hours and I’m still not done. But have to end somewhere.

I’ve gotten so far, and yet, still, nothing.

I really, really, really don’t want to stop writing. It’s the only thing I can right now. But no.

There It is,
The path that is to be seen,
Amongst the unknown,
I can find.
I can be.

Not knowing my path,
Finding a knowing,
One that sets me free.

Seeing the world,
Seeing its normalcy,
Content,
Being and to be set free.

A path seen,
Amongst its lack of clarity.
The place found.

Finding and set free.
Set free by the casual.

Finding to be.

As the world,
Rings out.
Its confusion,
Trying to find a path,
Make a trek,
Finding,
A path,
To find,
To be,
Me.

Let it all.
Just be.
Letting it ring past.

Amongst the calm night.
It is, let be.
As I, let it be.

It’s been a good day, did a lot of photography, sorted plans for more and plans for doing my own independent research and as one of my lecturers suggested, sending a revised and added-to essay I wrote for them to a journal. Don’t have enough time, but as always I’ll make time. Also my best friend, we chatted a little today, and I’m looking forward to spending their birthday with them!

Just wrote a comment on my favourite photographer nearby’s social media.

My true aim is, to capture beauty in normalcy. Not having to go somewhere exotic or far away, you can find beauty, inspiration and pristine bliss wherever you are. You just have to look. Even if it is hard, you just have to let your mind look.

Hurt from the kindness,
Memories from a time,
A time long passed,
So far along now.

The scars always so raw,
For what has been.
And what is to be;
With the causes and ingrediebts for pain,
Beating,
Being true, kind,
Causing pain.

As the mind spirals,
With the body calm,
Always stuck pondering.

Kindness to cause pain.
One so used to,
Expected, foretold and found to be true.

True to the pain,
The pain of being,
Living and seeing.
The pain from seeing.
It play out before it does.
A hurt from kindness.

Only to say,
I knew it would come.
And I go on.
Always knowing.
Coming to the point,
Is it the pain?
Or the knowing that causes the most pain?

Hurting from kindness.
When I give,
Most others,
Even those kindest souls,
Stop.
I carry on.
And seal my pain, my fate.

And as this song, this story,
Plays on.
I go on.
Having given up,
At some level,
I cannot even see.

Never thought,
Kindness could bring such pain.
Such pain.

Spent a lot of time thinking, good day, spent many hours working on photography.

But been thinking about kindness, how it always finds harm, and an image, I’ll attach it below. Saw it weeks ago, but my pondering a of kindness brought it back. The pain. A world of memories from the few seconds of thought.

Especially a friend I’ve been helping out a long time, not lonng ago, only to find, they were using me, and after months and hyping that we could meet, they didn’t bother. Used. Again. But not even surprised.

To be able to tell the future, a ‘gift’ that only causes pain, I know because times like these, I can tell it before it is, and the pain comes,
And I’m not surprised at all.
Getting used to it.
So used to the pain.

Not a positive poem, but I’m not feeling sad, just knowing, thinking. Introspective.